PALO ALTO, Calif. — A recent study from Stanford University concluded that millennials have eaten enough Pop-Tarts and Bagel Bites to completely preserve their bodies up to 100 years after death without intervention.
“I grew up eating frozen food you could cook in a microwave in less than 3 minutes, so it’s wild to hear that those poor decisions would result in a super gorgeous corpse,” says millennial Kelsey Greene. “As a ‘90s kid, I’d get home from school and gorge myself on Bagel Bites, Hot Pockets, and Cheez-Its, then wash it all down with a tropical punch Capri Sun. This was way before we knew how much Red40, preservatives and hormones were being pumped into those snacks, and well before that time when they found a rat in a Capri Sun pouch. I used to think Pop-Tarts were healthy because they had a strawberry filling–I had no idea I was ingesting formaldehyde the whole time. I guess it’ll be nice to get a deal on after death services, though. I’m still paying off my student loans so I need all the breaks I can get.”
Molecular biologist Sonia Heraldo explained that the diet of a millennial child was akin to a chihuahua taking elephant tranquilizers.
“It took a couple of decades to see the effect of preservatives on the human body, but now it’s glaringly obvious,” Heraldo said. “I mean, have you seen that haunting photo of the ‘Cheers’ cast? That entire cast was in their mid-thirties, which is insane when you think about what a millennial looks like today. Genetically speaking, millennials have not aged normally, and have more in common with a plastic bucket than a human being. In fact, the number of microplastics found in their bloodstream guarantees that their bodies will be preserved for up to a full century after they die. It’s quite incredible. Just imagine what archaeologists will be able to learn from these exquisitely fossilized bodies thousands of years from now!”
Mortician Jasmine Kargas described a recent millennial cadaver that came into her practice after a car accident as “handsome.”
“Even after the traumatic physical event the body endured, his organs remained perfectly intact, like the kind you’d see in a textbook,” Kargas said. “Thank god we knew what caused his death, otherwise there would be no rational explanation. I didn’t even need to apply makeup to the body, except to cover up the huge gash left by a piece of windshield lodged into the left side of his head. To be honest, the corpse looked beautiful—like an Evanescence album cover or a Renaissance painting. Even with exposure to the elements, I think this generation’s bodies will outlive us all.”
As of press time, Greene declined to adopt a vegan diet as she felt the food from her childhood was one of the “only good hands she’d ever been dealt.”
The title of this album is deeply misleading as there is no birth and very little violence to be found on this record, especially considering this was a return to Chelsea’s softer, singer songwriter roots. After the explosive “Hiss Spun” this album just feels like a step back from the celestial void, and the songwriting is most certainly more down to earth here then on previous albums, with the arrangements being much sparser. While this makes for a good artistic choice, this album still fails to deliver on its title, so it ranks at the bottom.
After writing an allegedly terrible album in the 2000s, Chelsea Wolfe re-entered the music scene with 2010s “The Grime and the Glow,” with stripped-back, folksy songs that have a strong, almost eye-poppingly apparent sense of melancholy. All of the ingredients to a kickass Chelsea offering are here, but without the heat and bite that gives her that “Wolfe” edge on later releases, but it’s a great relaunch of a music career, and a reminder that whatever stage of life you are in, that you too can start writing awesome music, maybe even tour behind it.
While it may sound like some dystopian plastic surgery procedure, “Apokalypsis” is actually the first Chelsea Wolfe album to embrace a full band sound. It’s great, sprawling and a work of art on its own, while lacking the atmospheric crush of later releases, it definitely tickles that folky Black Sabbath itch that roped in metalheads and heavy music fans everywhere with its uniquely feminine take on the celestial, often in contrast to the “Beer drinking and hell raising” audience outsiders typically associate with metal. Otherworldly, bold and daring, this album may have done more to get headbangers in touch with their feelings than hours and hours of therapy ever could.
Prior experimentation with industrial/electronic sounds on “Pain is Beauty” prompted Chelsea Wolfe to pursue this sound to its fullest, embracing the darkness not just within her soul, but within machines as well. Kicking things off with the intoxicating, domineering synths of “Carrion Flowers,” the rest of this album comes across just as menacingly, opening your eyes and soul and forcing the abyss to look into you, and it transports the listener on a celestial journey. This record bridged the gap towards the heavier direction Chelsea Wolf would tread down.
Is this the album where Chelsea Wolfe came into her own as a singer and songwriter? The technically correct answer is, yes, since this is the album where the experimentation with more nuanced and varied songwriting began. While previous releases relied more on folksy songwriting, rooted in this world, “Pain is Beauty” sought to expand outwards to the spiritual world, and thanks to co-conspirator Ben Chisolm, this album sounded more celestial than prior releases. Centering around the theme of idealistic love, with a good dose of “feral” energy, this was an album every 2010s Hipster/Goth would come to love in their own way.
After contacting some demons from the netherworld and transforming into a furry, menacing, but still distinctly human creature seen on the album cover, Chelsea Wolfe would then proceed to fully embrace the demonic on this album, strongly inspired by episodes of sleep paralysis she had experienced. This album was unprecedentedly bold, with guest appearances from both Troy Van Leeuen from Queens of the Stone age and living legend Aaron Turner, and the addition of former collaborator Jess Gowrie on drums (check out Ms. Piss for some filthy, noisy sounds from her and Chelsea), this album was a defining record of everything and everything heavy in the 2010s, and it’s just as timeless today if you want to get spun right round right round when you go round.
Whoever she keeps reaching out to, we want a direct line to them, because she definitely inspired one of the best Records of Chelsea’s illustrious career, just released this year is a textbook definition of artistic revitalization. Instantly addictive on first listen, this album gives the feeling that your high school D.A.R.E. counselor wishes was achievable with narcotics, but this album is just that good. Aided by all the usual players, and with the wisdom and experience of a pro, we just might be living in the golden age of Chelsea Wolfe, or we would be if time wasn’t an irrelevant construct.
Danny uses a disturbing episode from his youth to illustrate to Michelle how going along with the crowd isn’t always the best path to take. Danny used his time as a wayward teen living on Spahn Ranch with Charles Manson as a teachable example after his daughter was caught cheating in class. “Michelle, I woke up one morning in a heap of naked freaks to find Charlie shooting me up with amphetamines while glaring into my eyes and commanding that I go with Tex and Squeaky to cut up those piggies in Benedict Canyon. Now, would doing speed all day and going on a murderous rampage have been the right choice for Daddy to make, just because everyone else was? No, honey. It’s best to follow your heart and think for yourself.”
Danny explains that it’s more fulfilling to earn money than be given it, so Michelle opens a lemonade stand on the sidewalk in front of their home. Sadly, she attracts few customers. In a glum mood, Michelle seeks comfort from Danny while they sit next to her nearly full pitcher of lemonade. “Michelle, the invisible hand of the market simply declared your lemonade to be an unworthy investment for thirsty people. I know you’re merely a toddler but it’s high time you understand the power of capitalism. It’s the only god we worship in this house. On second thought, forget about the lemonade. Just make friends at school with the kids in the expensive onesies and fleece them for all they’re worth.”
With the help of her preschool teacher Michelle wrote a basic poem about the important things in the life of a small child. She excitedly shares it with Danny, who reacts less like a caring father than snide literature critic. “Michelle, I know you may think rhyming ‘trees’ with ‘bees’ is somehow special, but it’s trite fluff compared to the brilliant couplets of Ferlinghetti’s ‘Wild Dreams Of A New Beginning.’ I mean, seriously, what is revealed about the essence of man by rhyming ‘car’ with ‘star?’ Your scribbles don’t stir my spirit like ‘Beyond the cloverleaf turnoffs / Souls eat souls in the general emptiness.’ Sweetie, your poem wouldn’t even make the bargain bin at City Lights.”
It’s one of those days when the kids are just not getting along with each other. Stephanie grabbed Michelle’s favorite matchbox car and held it high in the air out of Michelle’s reach. She runs to Danny for help. He listens briefly but then shifts the topic to himself. “Michelle honey, I understand your frustration. You could say that Uncle Jesse and Joey have been holding something above your daddy’s head for a long time. Something awful. Something that forces me to give those bums free room and board in our home. Have you heard the term blackmail before, Michelle? Those two conniving bastards claim to know something about Daddy that he absolutely cannot allow the world to know. Don’t worry, it’s definitely not about your mother’s mysterious death.”
In her preschool class, Michelle gets in trouble for the first time. During circle time her teacher confiscates the toy Michelle snuck from home. After school Danny finds Michelle not her usual cheery self. “Oh honey, I know it saddens my little girl but the teacher was right to put your toy in her desk. I know how it hurts to have things taken from you. Remember when Daddy’s girlfriend Vicky got scared that I simply unholstered my concealed .45 during that scary argument? She got hysterical and so the police came into our kitchen and took Daddy’s gun that he worked really hard for and had all the proper paperwork for and everything. They had no right god dammit, no right! At least you got your toy back at the end of the day.”
